UnderFoot
by JackiLeigh
Summary: Number 8 in the series. Sam and Dean meet Diana and Jones in an unusual place under unusual circumstances. Peter-whumpage, mention.


UNDERFOOT

**AN: I am enjoying this series a lot. I hope you guys like what I come up with for this one. I am not sure if the series mentions where Sam's fear of clowns comes from. So, I came up with my own reason. I am not sure when the movie I reference came out, but I hope the dates will work okay. Thanks for all your support, as always. JackiLeigh**

According to the lore and John's journal these things that they were hunting loved dark damp places. And they don't get much darker, damper, or unfortunately smellier than the New York City Sewer system.

"Of all the jobs we've done," Dean Winchester said as he and his brother trudge through the darkness in their stolen city worker jumpsuits and headlamps. "…this is the worse. It seriously stinks down here, Dude."

"It likes sewers, dark places." Sam sighed. They had been walking forever, it seemed and he was tired.

"Why can't these freakin' monsters we chase ever like…I don't know…daylight.?" Dean asked, in his usual gruff manner.

Sam just smiled and shook his head.

Sam and Dean stopped for a moment and consulted the map. Sam sighed. "This thing could…."

Sam stopped and he and Dean looked at one another. They immediately flattened themselves against the wall and turned off their lamps. Something or someone was coming their way.

Sam and Dean held their breaths as they waited for whoever or whatever it was. They were relieved to hear voices. It was city workers discussing their weekend plans. The men passed them by, and they listened as the men ascended a ladder, removed the manhole cover and climbed out. They moved from their hiding place only after they heard the sound of the manhole cover being slid back into place.

Another hour in the underground system proved fruitless and the boys surfaced near a construction site that was close to the federal building.

"Dude, I seriously need a shower." Dean said as climbed out of the hole.

"You're telling me." Sam said, wrinkling his nose.

"Well, you don't exactly smell like bubble gum and cotton candy either." Dean grinned.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked, looking down at his clothes and realized he would have to throw them away. They were beyond help.

"The fair, clowns, Stephen King's story called IT?" Dean replied.

Sam still looked at little confused.

"There is a part of the story where kids spend time wandering the sewer system under their town. It's…if I remember correctly, it's where they first meet the clown." Dean stated. "He freaks them out."

"Why do you always do that?" Sam asked.

"What?" Dean said innocently.

"Dude, you know what!" Sam glared at him. "You know how I feel about clowns and you…."

Dean grinned.

"Jerk!" Sam remembered now. He had seen the movie.

"Sammy boy, you…." Dean laughed.

"You jerk. You told me that that was real! …a Stephen King novel?" Sam said, outraged. "You told me that that had really happened somewhere out in California. You said…." He fumed. "…you knew I would never read the book because it had a picture of a freakin' clown on the front of it!"

"I had to have some way to keep you in line." Dean murmured. "You were getting' so freakin' tall, I felt like…."

"What?"

"Whatever! Look, we have a job to do." Dean replied, changing the subject.

"We are not finished talking about this, Dean." Sam insisted.

"Whatever Sammy, let's go." Dean said as he and Sam walked the block to a hotel. They had parked the Impala in a secure lot outside the city, knowing the feds knew the car by now. They directed the driver to June's house and sat back and enjoyed the ride.

"DON'T call me Sammy!" Sam growled under his breath. It only made Dean smile more.

"We'll go eat, wash up and go back at it tonight." Dean said after they had paid for their room started off down the hall.

SPN/WC SPN/WC SPN/WC SPN/WC SPN/WC

"We have a line on the smuggler's boss. They are using the sewer system to move the goods." Diana replied. She handed the information she had uncovered to Peter.

"The sewer system, really?" Neal asked, trying to read upside down from his side of the desk.

Diana nodded. "It kind of makes sense, nobody goes there. Nobody wants to go there. Even if you somebody did hide something down there, the chances of finding it are…."

"Exactly, and the rats are big enough to carry you away. Plus the fact that if you got into trouble, if you screamed, nobody would ever hear you. It's like a bad horror movie waiting to happen." Neal said.

Both Peter and Diana looked at him.

"But we're going anyway." Neal replied.

"You wouldn't wade through raw sewage for a few million?" Peter asked, almost teasing. He was curious, though, as to what Neal would say.

Neal shook his head. "I wouldn't swim the Hudson either. But there are plenty out there who would."

"Just curious, you love the money, why not?" Peter asked.

"Correction Peter, I love the art. The money is a means to an end. It always runs out, and you always need more. There are many sources of money. So, to answer your question, I would have a Plan B." Neal replied. "I would let someone else do the dirty work for me. I would pay them to do it. Or I would just steal it from them after they had done all the work. Or, I would move on to another prize. There is always the next score."

"Honor among thieves." Peter shook his head.

"It is, largely, a myth." Neal agreed.

SPN/WC SPN/WC SPN/WC SPN/WC SPN/WC

Dean came out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist. He was using another to towel his hair dry.

"What have you found, Sam?" Dean asked, grabbing clean jeans and a t-shirt before ducking back into the bathroom to dress.

Sam shook his head. "Not much. I don't know if this thing is what we think it is."

"What is it then, Sam?" Dean asked. "What would intentionally go into the sewer system of New York and kill people."

"People get murdered in New York all the time. All you'd have to do is open a manhole and drop them in." Sam offered.

"…can't see that happening too often." Dean replied, sitting down on his bed after getting dressed.

"You're right, most of the 'missing' people are eventually found." Sam agreed.

"So that means what?" Dean asked. "Somebody is hiding something in the sewers?"

"Well, I'd say it's pretty safe. The only people who regularly go in would be city workers. And they wouldn't go in any more often than absolutely necessary." Sam replied.

"There's not much worth wading through all that…stuff for." Dean said, making a disgusted face.

Sam thought about it. "I might…for a few million."

Sam and Dean looked at each other. They knew who they had to go see next.

SPN/WC SPN/WC SPN/WC SPN/WC SPN/WC

June opened her door wide inviting Sam and Dean in. She hugged them both. "Hello, Sam. Hello, Dean, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"We're actually in town on a job." Dean said. "We were hoping Neal could help us out."

"He's been working some late nights, Boys." June replied. "I'm not sure when he'll be in. But you're welcome to go up and wait."

Sam smiled. "Thanks, June." He said as he and Dean started up.

Sam and Dean headed upstairs and into Neal's apartment. They waited, sent a text or 2 to him, but got no answer. It was soon time to head back underground. They left the apartment, said goodbye to June, and headed back to their hotel room to change.

SPN/WC SPN/WC SPN/WC SPN/WC SPN/WC

"Dean, something's off." Sam said as they changed clothes." "Neal always calls back."

Dean shrugged his shoulders. "June said he's busy, long days, remember…." Come on. We've got a job to finish."

They both left the hotel and 30 minutes later they were in the dark stinky tunnels under NYC aka the sewer system.

Sam grinned and shook his head. "The 30-foot alligator…."

Dean looked at him. "What?"

"Remember the legend of the 30-foot alligator…. I just wondered…." Sam stated.

"Well, if he does, I'm outta here." Dean replied. "We got nothing to defend against that."

"…shot him?" Sam offered.

"A gator that big? It would probably just piss him off." Dean shook his head. "No thank you."

Sam grinned. "Yeah, and besides, I can run a lot faster than you."

"I am SO coming back to haunt you!" Dean snapped.

Sam chuckled and started to speak when Dean silenced him. They both heard loud pops followed by thuds and then voices.

"Gunshot!" Sam whispered. "Other hunters?"

Dean shook his head. "We don't want to take that chance."

They both moved back into the shadows and waited. The voices came closer.

_"Can you believe it, over 50 million?" One guy said._

_"Yeah, I just…man, what I would do with that money." The other one replied._

_"Great hiding place, if you don't mind the smell." The first one said._

_"Yeah, for 10%, I could get used to it."_

_The second guy nodded. "Me too."_

_They both stopped and reached for the guns. They looked at each other and then shined their lights all around._

_The second man snapped. "I've worked too damned hard. Nobody's getting my share, but me!"_

_"Let's go!" The first guy said and they headed back in the direction they had come from._

Sam and Dean had not been too far away, but they had not heard whatever it was that had made the two men take off. They emerged from their hiding place.

"That was too freakin' close, Dude. Let's go" Dean said, heading in the opposite direction.

Just then both their phones alerted. It was text message from Neal. It said "HELP Sewers."

Sam and Dean looked at the message, then each other. "Well, let's go." Dean stated.

They were already tracking in the sewers. Only their object was changed, instead of some monster, or 30-foot gator, they were on a rescue mission of sorts, helping feds. It made Dean's stomach churn.

"What? We have no way of knowing where he is, Dean?" Sam replied. "I don't know much, at all, about the New York sewer system, except that there are miles of it."

"The shots came from this direction, Sam." Dean said starting off. "And at least we won't run into those two guys we heard talking." He paused. "Come on."

Sam followed. "If I just had my computer, a map, something…"Dean, we…we could be searching for hours. If Neal's been shot…."

Dean knew what Sam meant. He swallowed involuntarily.

Sam looked at his brother. "You do realize that we're hunting Feds now, right?"

"Yeah," Dean sighed. "…since when did this freakin place become Grand Central Station."

They walked in silence for a little while. They made it back to their point of entry without seeing anyone.

Sam stopped this time. He was the only one. He read the text. "C-12." He couldn't remember seeing any numbers or letter labeling the sections. But then again, he had not really been looking. They had just marked their trail with spray paint as they went along. Since the walls were already marked it wasn't hard for their paint to look like it had been there awhile.

"Dean, have you seen any letters or numbers on the walls?"

"I notice them." Dean said, shining his light around the walls. " I guess we've passed Section C, we're in Section A now."

"How are we going to find them?" Sam asked. "If I had my computer I could Goggle NYC sewers and see what comes up."

"No worries." Dean replied. "There's a pattern, we figure out the pattern we find Neal."

Sam sighed. "…and the Feds." He added.

Dean nodded. "Yeah,…and the Feds."

SPN/WC SPN/WC SPN/WC SPN/WC SPN/WC

Neal had not been shot, miraculously. But both Peter and Diana had, and Jones had been wounded, grazed by a bullet. He was trying to help Diana and Peter was trying to help Peter.

Neal had been trying to use his phone, but reception was sporatic and he was not sure any of his messages, got through, or if they could even be understood. He then tried texting, hoping that if these messages were delivered, they would, at least, be understandable. He closed his phone and sighed and prayed as he continued to apply pressure to Peter's wound using his jacket.

Peter and Hughes had made the decision to have only a few agents go into the tunnels this was on the theory that since there were only a few exits that were safe to exit at any time. Like those that didn't open onto a busy street, etc. He could use his other agents to cover those areas. They planned to catch these guys leaving the sewer system at one of those exits. They then could force the criminals to take them to the treasure. Or better yet, the feds would let them haul all the treasure out and then arrest them.

The latter happened, much to the agents delight. It was not until the criminals had been arrested and taken to prison that they realized Peter and company were not accounted for. The agents had all assumed that Peter had returned to the office. But when they found his desk empty and his phone being out of range, they got very concerned. A major hunt was called on, involving the U.S. Marshals and several other branches of the FBI. They all descended on the NYC sewer system, uniformed and with weapons drawn.

Hours before Peter and company had encountered the bad guys, 3 men who were heavily armed. They had surprised Peter and the others. The men had shined their lights into the agent's faces. When the men didn't recognize the agents they fired their weapons, then they fled.

The agents were unable to leave the sewers. Peter, and Diana could not climb out, at all, on their own, and Jones wouldn't be able to climb out without help. They were stuck, at least for the moment. And Neal prayed his call to the Winchesters would come in time to help them all.

Neal and Jones fell silent when they heard someone coming their way. Jones, though in pain and weak pulled his weapon and waited. Neal took Peter's weapon and they readied themselves for whatever was coming their way.

Neal relaxed when he heard his name being called. He recognized the voices. "It's okay, Jones."

Dean stopped when he heard Neal call out to them. He tried to get a location.

"Keep calling him, Sam." Dean said as he listened carefully.

They stood still as Dean tried to figure out the right way to go from Neal's return call.

"Yell again, Sam. We're at C-11. We've got to be close." Dean stated.

Sam called out again to Neal.

"Sam," Dean said as they turned the last corner. "This is it. I see light ahead."

Neal had decided leaving the flashlights on. But he knew it could make them easier to find them that way. He just had to hope the right people would find them first.

Jones raised his weapon as soon as he recognized their visitors. It was very difficult to tell how anybody was with the low light and having to wear the masks.

"Neal?" Dean asked, putting his hands up at the same time. "Tell your friend…."

Neal quickly intervened. "It's okay, Jones, it's okay. I called them. They are going to help us."

Jones looked at the Winchesters for a second. He then looked at Neal before he finally lowered his weapon.

Dean and Sam climbed onto the platform.

Sam went over to Neal and Peter. "Thanks, Neal." Sam looked at Neal. "Are you okay?"

Neal nodded. "They've been shot." He was still in shock. "…not sure how they missed me."

Sam could see his emotional state. "Just be glad they did, Neal. You needed to be able to help your friends."

Neal nodded again.

Neal shifted his position, causing Peter to groan and open his eyes. "Sam?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, it's me."

"Why are…? Peter asked through his pain.

"We were looking for urban legend monsters. We found human ones instead." Sam said, referring to the people who had shot Peter and his agents. Sam pulled out a small lantern type light that cast a lot of light. He switched it on and the small space became much brighter. Dean had a second lantern. He turned his on also.

Peter nodded as Sam began to unload his bag. Then he looked at Sam. "What…?"

"The bullet needs to come out, Peter." Sam said as he sterilized his tweezers with bourbon. "I've done this before, don't worry." He said. "Dean's still alive to tell the tale."

"Don't let him fool you, Peter." Dean replied. "His bedside manner sucks."

"Why are you here?" Jones asked. He was sitting on the opposite side of Diana trying to manage pressure on both their wounds.

"Neal called us. …said he needed help." Dean replied, getting his supplies ready to take the bullet out.

Dean than turned to Diana. She opened her eyes. It took her just a second to recognize Dean. She jumped a little in surprise and immediately tried to move away from him.

"I guess my reputation precedes me." Dean smiled a genuine smile. "I'm not going to hurt you." His words seemed to have no effect. He called Neal over.

"Ms. Fed is a little surprised to see me." Dean explained when Neal came over.

Neal addressed Diana. "Dean gonna take the bullet out, Diana. That's…."

"…should…be…arresting…." Diana managed to say through her pain, still trying to move away from him.

"You can do that later." Dean said, dismissively. "Right now we have a bullet to worry about."

"Why are you doing this?" Jones asked, very apprehensive.

"Neal called us. He needed help." Dean answered.

"That's it?" Jones asked.

"That's it…I would like to call you something besides Mr. Fed." Dean replied.

"Jones." He said, relaxing just a little. "Clinton Jones."

"Well, Clinton Jones." Dean said as he worked. "I'm Dean Winchester, nice to meet you. I would shake your hand but…."

Things were subdued as Sam and Dean worked. Peter and Diana both moaned and groaned as the boys worked to remove their bullets. Jones and Neal helped where they could. And the boys worked quickly. Soon they had removed the bullets and disinfected and sewn up the wounds. Each gave their 'patient' the remainder of the bourbon as 'medicine.' They both gratefully accepted and take the 'medicine' eagerly.

Sam then took a moment to clean and sew up Jones wound, borrowing a little of Diana's whiskey.

"How did you learn to do that?" Diana asked as Dean sat down beside her.

"My dad taught me. I taught Sam." Dean replied.

"Why would your dad need, such…skills." Diana asked, even as she lifted her shirt and admired the stitching on her lower abdomen.

"Dad was a Marine." Dean answered.

Diana nodded. That explained it. "I should be arresting you right now, you know."

Dean smiled. "You should, but I think at this point, I could outrun you."

Diana smiled. She was starting to like this guy, despite herself. He was not like any cold-blooded killer she had ever met. "You wander the sewers of New York for fun." She asked.

"Sam and I are actually working." Dean replied.

"I've been all over your file. I've never seen…."

Diana's news didn't surprise him. If he was a betting man, he would wager Peter knew about everything that there was to know, too.

Dean shook his head. "Not that type of hunting more like monsters, the things urban legends are made of."

Jones spoke up this time. But Diana remained guiiet. She seemed to be considering what Dean had said. "But those things aren't real, are they?"

"You'd be surprised what's real and what's not, actually?" Dean stated.

Sam, Peter and Neal had been silent. Sam was watching Peter's wound for signs of leakage, and Neal was giving Peter sips of the bourbon. Peter chuckled at Dean's words. Jones did too, though his chuckle was somewhat uneasy.

Dean looked at Diana. "You didn't laugh. That's usually the reaction we get."

Diana gave him a half-smile. "My mom was Creole. Her mother practiced Voodoo. I used to visit her for a few weeks in the summer every year. And I would come back and tell my parents all these 'fantastic' stories. They were 'fantastic,' according to my dad, anyway. His parents were business professionals in Atlanta. And his job now, he's a very concrete thinker. No room for…this stuff. I was just making things up, according to him. But I saw things…she did things that gave me nightmares." Diana shook her head. "There were a lot of things I still don't understand."

Diana's reaction surprised all those who worked with her. They had no idea of her heritage or that she had actually witnessed anything supernatural.

Dean nodded. "We've dealt with Voodoo…powerful stuff."

"My grandmother wanted me to…join in with her when I got to be 13. She really pushed it then, something about my…energy. It was…I don't know." Diana said.

"According to lore, theories, teens have a great deal of pent-up energy. It's supposedly connected to the physical changes boys and girls go through." Sam offered.

"Sam heads and is our research department." Dean said grinning.

"What is your job then?" Diana asked, not sure of what Dean would say.

"I'm in charge of the kicking-ass-and taking-names department." Dean said, very seriously. "I'm the muscle. Sammy, there, is the pretty one."

They all chuckled.

"Funny, Dean, very funny!" Sam growled.

"I figured your agents would be here by now, Peter." Dean replied.

Peter nodded. "Me too."

"You two need to be on your way." Neal replied. "I know that they're looking for us."

"We don't have to go anywhere, Neal." Dean replied. "Sam there's George Goodwin, and I'm Bob Anderson. We're sanitation workers who just happened to come across some agents in trouble and decided to help them out. We'll just pack up our lanterns and use our flashlights. And with these hats, re-breathers and uniforms, nobody will know the difference." He turned to Sam. "Ain't that right, George?"

Sam nodded and smiled. "Absolutely, Bob."

Diana and Jones both started to speak.

"We figure you owe us." Dean replied. "We helped you out. We stitched you up. You let us leave as George and Bob Sanitation Worker, and we'll be on our way."

Diana looked at them both, she was struggling. But, Dean was right. He and Sam had, most likely, saved their lives. They had kept she and Peter from bleeding to death.

"I want you to know that I really, really don't like this. Diana started. "But…."

"But they did save our lives." Peter interrupted. He looked at them. "Thank you."

"Yes, Dean, thank you." Diana shook her head.

Diana looked at Peter, and Peter nodded. She looked back at Dean. "God help me, Dean, but I do like you. Don't make us regret this."

Sam and Dean nodded.

The rest of the White Collar agent showed up about 10 minutes later. And Dean had been right, no one recognized them. They left the sewer as Bod and George Sanitation Work and headed back to the hotel.

The body that had sparked their hunt for an urban legend, their monster, turned out to be dead thief who had decided he wanted to steal from the boss. The body had been so bloated when it was found, that the gunshot wound to the back of the head had been missed. And as time, rats, and nature ravaged the body, a mistaken tale of legend was born. And a newspaper and a cub reporter reported it as such.

Sam and Dean showered and changed in a hurry once they got back to their hotel room. They still had to go and pick up the Impala.

"This would be such a waste of time if Neal didn't live in the city." Sam stated.

"Yeah, but that Diana chick, she was a babe." Dean replied.

"She's not your type." Sam said, knowing something about her that Dean didn't.

"She's gorgeous; of course she's my type." Dean stated.

"No, she's not…. Believe me, she's not." Sam assured him. Sam and Neal had been talking, awhile back. And Neal had let the cat out of the bag.

Dan shook his head. "If you want a shot at her…just say so."

Sam shook his head, also. "It's not that. I just…I don't have the right…equipment." He said, struggling with a good way to tell his brother.

Dean finally got it. He looked at Sam. "No way! How do you know?"

Sam told him, then, what Neal had said. Sam paused. "It's a shame we didn't get to spend more time with Neal this visit."

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "…and you know, I almost wished we HAD run across that gator."

"You actually wanted to come across a 30-foot alligator in the NYC sewers?" Sam couldn't believe his ears. "Are you crazy?"

Dean grinned. "Ya only live once, Sammy. Ya only live once."

THE END


End file.
